Doubt

some words of wisdom from Opinionated Man (Jason)

HarsH ReaLiTy

I cut her with a little doubt. Not enough to break her, but enough to make her doubt herself. I watch as confusion clouds the clarity of her eyes as everything she thought she knew dies. And instead of despise, I feel her need to find herself once more. To remove the doubt I have placed as I doubt what we have.

-OM

44.1

@smokendust

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Scapegrace…MMLM Wordle 137

(Day 16, 2017)

Rogue Mayor

ever the scapegrace (his position aside)
given no quarter of tolerance
for sudden nicotine cravings…
mealy-mouthed and queasy from years
of parapraxis and gelatinous back-bone…
he longed for a fusion of wit and wisdom
to complement his vast popularity.
Then at last came the day that a spark
took flare and he enacted a non-smoking law
of dubious but far-reaching value.

© Sometimes, 2017

 

week-137

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/wordle-137-january-9th-2016/

 

a walk in the park… a wordle poem

As we walk along the darkened trail
pine needles crunch beneath our boots
giving pungent aroma into the night.
Lanterns glow beyond curtained mist
we laugh as  an owl a “good evening” hoots.

We take the trail to the river edge
where trim gardens hide their colors
as they gather rest for tomorrow’s sunlight.
The moon parts clouds to reveal the bridge,
silhouetted demurely against midnight sky.

The horn of a passing ship on a mystery trip
captures our fancy as we breezily speculate
on excursions we still might have taken—
these are the things…  a sigh, a kiss…
form memories that linger in clear view forever.

© Sometimes, 2017

 

As all two of you know, I LOVE Wordles!     Wordles is a feature of MindLoveMisery, and I enjoy doing them.  I search for them on the MLM site, and write the word list in my working notebook, and work on them when I have a chance.   Sometimes it is an extra challenge to make a story or poem using all ten of the twelve words given.

t269

Wordle #269, originally published on Sunday Whirl, hosted by Brenda Warren  https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2016/10/09/wordle-269/

https://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com/2016/10/09/photo-challenge-133-and-wordle-269/

 

 

 

The Echo

(Day 15, 2017)

The Echo

Do your ever wonder, kind Sir
if she ever wonders of you?
The answer would be, if ever asked,
truth might be revealed…when taken to task..

Oh yes!  the lady remembers
and the words echo in part of her brain
and again she whispers…ever so near…
“never forget me”…from her lips to your ear.

Long ago and far away
a dream thus lasted, until this day.
those words echo again…come what may…
lips are silent, have nothing else to say.

© Sometimes, 2017

circling the wagons…

keeping up with the shenanigans
leading up to the off-again/ on-agains
complacent in our political wagons
endeavoring to circle… Old-Western style…
made difficult by attempts to  mis-beguile
by conflicting opinions and factions

turning the political order on its head…
keeping promises to the rabid, illogical  crowd
flies in the face of common-sensical thought
due to ignorance of which they are proud;
defying the principles by which they were taught,
…the  cost with which our freedom was bought.

© Sometimes, 2017

 

Who Knows Cats?

I am compelled to re-post this photo of MAWKIN and a cat poem from last year. In this shot he was observing our efforts to clean the garage.

SOMETIMES

DSC03167

 Kitty…
Where do you go
When you vanish like that?
How do you reappear so soon?
Why are you napping now?
What is your game?
Who knows?

© Sometimes, 2016

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they can do better than that

Day 13, 2017

As a long-time fan of spy fiction
I like to keep an open mind
and far be it from me to take a poke
at intelligence dossiers and spy reports
but it all seems to me a very bad joke!

Normally reading the details of a carefully-
teased expose…dragged across our nose…
gives fuel to the fire and facts to the tale
but when details sound to be suspicious
they usually are just as they seem.

The truth is sometimes hidden, for lack
of sufficiently shocking details (better presented
in a colorfully embellished story-form)
with salacious stories of sex and smut,
to present a more spicy distraction.

© Sometimes, 2017

ambivalence

(Day 12, 2017)

which is worse…cold crisp snow
that freezes the toes and tip of the nose
that chills our  livers  and sends shivers up the spine
—or melting  slush of wet and grime?

in place of charming crunch of boots
and pinching cheeks rosy and frosting young shoots
discouraged from peeping ‘oer the sturdy ground
that protects from  sinking deep in the mire…

wading through former fresh fallen snow,
now transformed into slurping melting slush pools
seeping into shoes and soaking pantlegs
dripping and sogging our ankles..

soon more sparkling drifts of snow
will follow, draping upon the slush of yesterday…
adorning crests and crevices with camouflage
of winter’s beauty…just tread with care.

© Sometimes, 2017

 

The Tryin’ of Speaker Ryan

This post is re-blogged from several months ago, but it is still pertinent, to me anyway.

SOMETIMES

I have to hand it to Paul Ryan
the man just doesn’t quit trying!
Caught in a den of experts at lying,
and vying for votes by begging or buying.
Speaking loudly above all the jeering and swearing,
off this way or that…slipping and veering.
Poor Speaker Ryan, his smile running thin
against all the prying and querying…
wearying, not crying, he’s plying his wiles
and biding his time…working at herding his cats…
while trying to stay INSIDE the frying pan!

© Sometimes, 2016

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Deliyah…4-year-old reader of 1,000 books

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/01/12/meet-daliyah-the-4-year-old-girl-who-has-read-more-than-1000-books/?utm_term=.6403ea387b35&wpisrc=nl_mix&wpmm=1#comments

Now here is an inspiring story out of the Washington Post this morning, a four-year-old who has apparently read one thousand (1,000) books so far. She hangs out at the Library of Congress.

Yes…I hear you in the back there mumbling about the veracity of this story…and I’ll bet you either 1) don’t personally know any of Deliyah’s peers, other pre-schoolers, that is… or 2)are not paying attention. This child is indeed remarkable and a great role-model for other children—and she is not unique. (Meaning one-of-a-kind, not as in the modern fancy of “unique” as a mere synonym for unusual, or great.)

Today’s children all over the world are smarter and more aware than at any time in history.    Peer into the bright, shining eyes of a child…in person or in photographs…to see the intelligence shining through.

They “know” things, information gleaned from television shows, or books, chatting with other children…and, of course, school.   Pre-school kids commonly know the alphabet and basic number figures, understand the details about the hippopotamus, orangatangs, and mocking birds.   They often even know how to spell those words.

 

incongruous

(Day 11, 2017)

who was Cleopatra’s hubby?

right… the King of Denial

that’s my new nickname for

The Donald

who will soon be the leader of the

free world…such as it is.

Never so much the urge to giggle

as watching the Press Conference

in which our Prez-To-Be  developed a temper

at the bad reporter who wouldn’t shut up.

Really quite a valuable lesson:

when backed in a corner just snarl

and deny it ever happened.

I really want to take them seriously,

Don and his Won Tons of stand-up comedy,

but really—its not at all funny—

snickering at nuke-talk

the bane of existence!

© Sometimes, 2017

 

 

ever wonder if all is really “but a deam?”

Day 9, 2017.

Dreams are still one of the great mysteries of life—probably will always be.     Thoughts are paths leading through the dim reaches of our sleeping brains, bringing joy and fright, often even in the same dream.     OK, I admit to having an affinity to Kermit the Frog, with his songs about rainbows and his “lovers, and dreamers…and me…”

Enough of that kind of nonsense, I suppose.   It’s just that my nature runs to the beautiful and kindly connected features of life in general and life-on-the-edge in particular.    Sometimes it seems that no matter how terrible the evening news gets to be, there is some sense of surreality that tinges the horrific details with fuzzy edges that lend a hint of humor, at least ridicule, that belies the other-worldy bizarreness.

Occasionally I will think of something, a conversation or place that I have been, and it takes awhile to realize that the incident had actually been a dream.     An example of this phenomenon occurred for me at the time of the 9-11 attack on New York City.   During the day the news channels were playing the footage repeatedly in which the second airplane hit the Twin Towers, flying into the side of the already burning building…like a Frisbee sailing toward its mark endlessly on a giant loop.

I had entered into a fitful sleep, having watched the 9-11 tragedy over and over all day.  Also, coincidentally a family crisis was evolving closer to home, involving my adult children who were present at the impending death of their father (my ex-husband,) in a hospital in Michigan.    More than once I got out of bed and turned on the television to reassure myself that it had been in a dream of my own that the jet passenger plane was slicing into the tower …but each time I checked my TV the horrific incident was happening again in real time.

A similar reality-dream happened to me again in November of 2016, when I was awakened by a dream on election night.  I had not waited for the final count to come down before turning in, but I did have a long and detailed dream about the election…but my dream did not reflect what really happened.    In the morning CNN came on with news that was the opposite of what I had been dreaming.

Every now and then the thought recurs—that maybe Shakespeare was right about
life and dreams and the interaction of the two concepts alternating in the realms of reality and make-believe.

Second Guessing myself…

Day 8, 2017.

Wow!  We are already heading into the second week of the new year.   January is the busiest month of the year as far as family birthdays count.   My late husband, two grandsons, a son, great-granddaughter, son-in-law, and daughter-in-law.  And that is just my immediate family, not counting at least one niece from my Florida-Clan.

I used to send cards with detailed notes in them, and even money.    Now that I am basically a poor church mouse, I’m lucky if I get a card out at all.   Oh, sure, there are electronic cards that are relatively easy to send, and I must say those are often very attractive…and they even sing or play music for the recipient.

My intentions are good, and yes, I do know what they say about good intentions.   I do at least think about people on their birthdays.

Unfortunately (I guess,) I am not really into Facebook or other social media.   Let’s not go into that here, with a wink and a nod to my excuse/reasoning that these venues cause a LOT of trouble.   E-mail was bad enough, always a risk for correspondents.

Blogging is my love, being a source of endless blank pages on the computer screen, beckoning with a promise that I can write/say almost anything about nearly any subject.  I write poetry, essays and diaries about the good old days…at least MY good old days.     My goal for this new year is to write something every day…or at least re-post something that I have written since my blog SOMETIMES was born.

One of the sweet things about blogging is that we tend to attract like-minded writers who more or less follow our work.   We enjoy each others’ photos, essays, and poems, and short stories.

One rule I set for myself is to write with care.   To me that means avoiding offending anyone, getting uppity with those who do not agree with me, or writing obnoxious or unsubstantiated  things.    Normally I rest fairly well assured that when I push the SEND button, and later when someone opens my post to read it, there will not be any adverse effects.    Sometimes (often, actually) what I write is intended to be humorous, though representative of my views and opinions.   Satire and sarcasm I use sparingly,  with care and judgement.

I have published 671 posts to this blog, Sometimes, as of a glance to my Stats page just moments ago.    This represents steady publications the last couple of years, and the total over the life of my blog since 2011.   I have deleted two posts that I recall, rewrote a couple, but most have stood as written.      I don’t think I’ve offended or insulted anyone, and I take great pains to avoid such writing.

My number one goal this year is to write every day.    Actually I do write daily, usually in a variety of diaries and notebooks…then transfer items to my blog.    Once in a great while I have misgivings about a post, and accordingly re-write it, edit it for spelling or grammatical errors…and for any questionable content.     It takes a few moments to go back in the pages and fix typos or mis-spellings, or to make glaring corrections of fact.

Yesterday I wrote one of my problem pieces, and have mulled it over in my mind since.   It is about the infamous Wall which has been proposed…whether actual or theoretical, our president-elect now owns this idea, and possibly feels he has an obligation to “build the wall.”.     My purpose was to post the link to photos of the existing wall between the United States southern border and Mexico.   The suggestions that were included in my post are facetious…tongue-in-cheek…sarcastic.   When I came to my computer this morning I fully expected (dreaded, perhaps,) some negative comments about my rather outrageous “suggestions” for extending the border.    Especially worrying to me are “guests” or browsers who happen-upon  what I write, not regulars that recognize snide…ok, snarky…sarcasm.    So far so good…